


not quite enemies, not quite allies

by afterism



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, F/F, Fight Sex, Fingerfucking, Frottage, Nearly Getting Caught, Trapped In A Closet, Trying to Stay Quiet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-02 09:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6560809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterism/pseuds/afterism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All those preparations, and still Peggy ended up hiding in a closet with <i>Dottie Underwood</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	not quite enemies, not quite allies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ilthit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilthit/gifts).



All those preparations, and still Peggy ended up hiding in a closet with _Dottie Underwood_.

"Hi," Dottie breathed, her teeth bright in the darkness. The air was too hot and too close already, the heatwave draping itself over New York only getting bolder with every evening, but now it smelt of nothing but rose water and Peggy couldn't breathe in without Dottie's hand brushing her stomach, or her arm catching across the front of Peggy's dress.

Outside, footsteps thudded down the hotel corridor. More than two, at least; the tread heavy and unhurried but muffled by the carpet. The closet doors were as thick the floor, outlined thinly in dull light, and all this solid wood was apparently just for show as there was nothing in there but them, no coats or towels or anything to swallow up sound. Any thump would sound out clear and terminally revealing.

Dottie shifted, did something that made her trousers rustle, and Peggy snatched at whatever part of Dottie was closest.

"Relax," Dottie whispered, drawing it out like she was smiling. Peggy tightened her grip on Dottie's wrist. "I was just getting comfortable."

Peggy pressed her lips together. The footsteps were still there, still quiet - either already past the door to their room or possibly going back the same way. Not close enough to hear, surely.

She turned her face towards Dottie, her eyes adjusted enough to the darkness to catch the contours of her cheek, the line of her jaw. She was closer than she needed to be. "What are you doing here?" Peggy murmured, low and clipped.

"Looking for something, of course," Dottie said, quietly, casually sing-song, and then, "Oh my, you don't think we're after the same thing, do you?" Dottie gasped, bright and pleased and still only just above a whisper. "How fun! We could look together."

Peggy was still holding onto Dottie's wrist, her pulse jumping under her fingertips. Dottie's palm was pressing silk against her hip and her skin was prickling in the heat, flushed with the kind of awareness of her own body that always made her uncomfortable. She dropped Dottie's wrist, resisted the urge to wipe her hand across her forehead because her elbow would knock against the side, and ignored the way Dottie's hand had only fallen as far as her thigh.

"I don't recall," Peggy started, and grimaced for a beat as she tried to shift away, find room to breathe, her dress snagging at the wood grain against her back. "Anything good ever coming from your help."

"Oh Peg, that hurts," Dottie murmured, tilting her chin down, close enough that Peggy could feel her exhale brushing past her neck. "It's an awful big room out there, and goodness knows how much time we have. I promise I'll share -"

"Shh!" Peggy snapped, as something creaked; her world so narrowed in the darkness that she couldn't tell if it was a floorboard or a door hinge. They both, Peggy realised after a long, silent moment, were holding their breath.

"Jumpy, aren't we?" Dottie eventually whispered.

Peggy lifted her jaw, and unclenched her hands. "This floor is off-limits. If they suspect anyone is in here -"

"We'll take care of them," Dottie said, her voice edged bright and flirty. Her fingertips were drawing circles over Peggy's dress, almost absent-minded as they traced down her thigh - and then they caught the edge of her holster, and Peggy's skin abruptly stopped tingling.

" _No_ ," Peggy snapped, finding the glint of Dottie's eyes in the darkness. She looked amused. "The last thing I want is a trail of destruction announcing that we were here."

"Is that why you pulled me in here? Gosh, I just thought you wanted to chat," Dottie whispered, swaying a breath closer, a breeze ghosting over Peggy's lips.

"I'll admit that was a dreadful impulse decision," Peggy murmured, as Dottie's fingers floated up to her waist. Her pulse had been racing ever since she stole into an empty hotel room and found Dottie Underwood rifling through the papers left on the coffee table; the heat now somehow thickening as Dottie's hand inched higher, her breath catching in her throat.

She needed to move. Her hair was prickling horribly around her neck, and this dress was entirely the wrong choice and there was a single sheet of paper she needed, somewhere in that room, but this floor was positively crowded and there was nothing Dottie offered that could be described as _help_.

She was also, Peggy noted distantly, desperately not noticing how her body was reacting to _Dottie_. It was probably mentioned, somewhere in a secret file that no one should ever read, that she had a terrible weakness for people who didn't underestimate her.

"You could just say you missed me," Dottie teased, and something rustled again, her foot knocking against Peggy's - and Peggy finally realised she was concentrating so hard on ignoring the fingers creating sparks under her skin that she had no idea where Dottie's other hand was.

They moved in the same breath. Peggy lunged blindly for Dottie's arm and found smooth skin just as Dottie snapped a hand around Peggy's wrist and wrenched. Peggy's shoulder twisted as Dottie jerked her arm up, Peggy shoving Dottie's arm behind her in a joint lock, ribs crashing together as Peggy's foot slipped and they slammed back with a single, definite thump against the wall of the closet.

Her heart was pounding in the same quick beat of Dottie's breath against her mouth, drowning out any echo. Dottie's thigh was between hers, pressing cool silk against her legs, and in the stillness Peggy could feel every stretch where they were pressed together, stomach and shoulder and elbows to hips, palms to pulse points; the rush of it sinking down through her skin to pool low and golden.

Outside was silent, expectant. Dottie was composed in shades of shadow, her eyes still bright, and Peggy's hand was already starting to slip from the heat - she tilted her mouth up to Dottie's, lips parted and ready to speak, and Dottie closed the gap between them like drawing in a breath and kissed her hard.

Heat cut through Peggy like a concealed blade, sharp and sudden and without resistance. There was a catch in her throat that might have been a noise, a muscle in her calf that might have tensed too close to the wall, the drag of Dottie's mouth over hers narrowing the world so completely that seconds passed and it took the sound of the hotel room door opening for Peggy to stop _leaning into it_. 

Dottie stilled, for a beat, her mouth half an inch away. Peggy's body felt electric in the strangest places, one side of her neck and in the curve of her thigh, her skin sweat-slick and uncomfortably hot in the airless crush of their limbs.

Peggy flicked her tongue along the edge of her lip, and tasted nothing but her own lipstick.

"Mám toho plné zuby!" someone yelled, barging into the room with loud footsteps and a louder voice. Male, foreign, not alone -

and Dottie's grip flexed around her wrist like a promise and she kissed her again, a wet slide of her lips that punched through Peggy like a bomb in the next town over, shaking her down to her soles.

The footsteps outside on the plush carpet were muffled into confusion, too many stops and starts to count and Dottie's arm slipped out beneath her palm, Peggy's fingers suddenly pressed against the thin cotton of her blouse. There was sticky heat and shifting muscles under her hand and she only had a second of panic before Dottie's hand was sliding around the angle of her waist, tight and demanding.

She should stop this, Peggy thought distantly, but the dangerous part was that she _didn't want to_. The thrill of it was in her bones, her ribs and her fingers all tight with electricity as the current seared her to the spot. Dottie's mouth was unrelenting, yielding only to the curl of Peggy's tongue with wet sounds that rang like landed punches.

There were raised voices knocking around the hotel room as Dottie left Peggy's arm loose and still pressed against the wall to start hitching up her skirt. Her nails scratched up Peggy's thigh, the drag of it spreading across her nylons like ripples in water until Dottie found a slip of bare skin at the top of her thigh, and the shock of skin against skin wrenched a gasp from Peggy's throat.

She was lost, Peggy noted, from the moment she let Dottie touch her without breaking something in return - there was still noise outside, uncounted numbers of people _right there_ who could open the door at any time, but every thumping footstep and shout covered their fumbling gasps and there was electricity in that, too, coiling low in her stomach - and with that she grabbed a handful of Dottie's rear and hauled her closer. Her leg slipped roughly between Dottie's thighs to press the seam of her trousers up against her core, earning her a grunt that hummed against her mouth, more vibration than sound.

Dottie thumbed her way past Peggy's garter in retaliation, toying with the edge of her underwear before running the pads of her fingers along the cotton, the slightest circles of exploration that made her skin throb. Peggy pushed her pelvis into her hand but Dottie moved, somehow still deft in the cramped trap of their hips, her fingers the barest flutters of agonising gentleness; touching her with such teasing delicacy that Peggy nearly sobbed into her mouth, nearly broke the silence to demand _more_.

"Ask nice," Dottie murmured, their lips still brushing, and Peggy surged forward and bit at her mouth. She sucked at the skin she could catch between her teeth and Dottie gasped, bright and pleased and too loud, surely, but it melted into a thrumming kind of moan as she shuddered against Peggy's leg.

Peggy's hand was still pressed against Dottie's back, locked strong and holding her close as Dottie rode her thigh. She had the curve of her spine under her hand, the flex of Dottie's muscles under her fingertips, just damp cotton between her and the rolling heat of Dottie's body and it wasn't nearly enough -

"Next time," Peggy whispered, dizzy with the heat, the lack of air, the way Dottie's fingers pressed harder against her clit - "I'm going to have you completely naked and tied to the bedpost."

Dottie sucked in a breath, a cold breeze against her lips. "Tempting," she breathed, her little finger catching at the edge of her knickers, her nail scratching Peggy's skin. "But I've never met a knot I can't get out off."

"That's rather the point," Peggy said, with a tilt of her head to change the angle, catch Dottie off-guard as she teased their mouths close. "If you escaped, we would stop."

"Sounds like fun," Dottie said, and cut her off with a bruising kiss as her fingers nudged inside her underwear, slipping along Peggy's soaked lips.

Peggy hissed, oversensitive and aching, desperate for it even as she chased the slick curl of Dottie's fingers. Dottie's free hand was kneading at the side of her chest, everything _not enough_ until her thumb swiped up hard enough to be felt through her bra and two fingers slipped easily inside her, everything suddenly perfect - Peggy keened breathlessly into the kiss, shoving her hip forward to clash with Dottie's.

Dottie's free hand slipped, crashing against the back of the closet as her hips flicked tight and rolling; artlessly close, panting against Peggy's jaw with air-stealing gasps and still her fingers worked relentlessly. There were more stretching her gloriously, something bone-hard rubbing spirals into her clit and Peggy's spine ached with tension, circling and unbearably close --

Dottie came with a cry that barely left her throat, choked down and throttling as her body seized and became one long line of muscle under Peggy's hands. Her fingers didn't still for a heartbeat, only slowing into a twitchy kind of pulse for a few beats before diving harder into Peggy's slick heat, and Peggy had no idea if it was the exquisite stretch or the vulnerable curve of Dottie's spine or the hint of teeth over her jaw, but her orgasm hit with overwhelming sweetness and she clenched down on Dottie's fingers, gasping almost silently into the air as she held herself through it.

The outside world flooded in with silence, a slow roll of awareness that there was nothing louder than her own heartbeat in her ears. They were still propping each other up, Dottie's forehead against Peggy's cheek, her breath damp along Peggy's neck, Peggy's twisted-up shoulder and the hip that hit the wall and the over-stretched burn along her thigh all immediate and demanding as the rush of it melted away.

"I didn't know you had it in you," Dottie taunted, but it was breathless and half-hearted, and Peggy bit her lip as Dottie pulled her hand back, smearing wetness along her skin as Peggy's dress slipped back down in a semblance of modesty. 

She dropped her thigh, let her hands slip away from Dottie's back, untangling with unhurried cautiousness until they could stand without leaning on each other - still touching, of course, knees brushing and hands finding hips and a lingering tease of Dottie's fingers on her wrist, her fingertips colder than the jumping pulse under her skin. 

They were both listening, Peggy realised, for the silence outside to resolve into emptiness rather than expectancy. They both still had their missions. The skin along her arms tingled, suddenly cold despite the air hot and close and sour all around them.

"See you around, Peg," Dottie said suddenly, bursting through the quiet like a grenade, and swooped close to kiss her fierce and quick before kicking open the door behind her. The light flooded in blinding as Dottie slipped out still facing her, only dropping her wrist when both feet were on the carpet and the door was swinging shut.

Peggy was left standing in the endless black, the closet suddenly absurdly huge and empty, her skin goose pimpling and keenly aware of how her thighs were sticking together.

She exhaled, loud enough to hear herself, and for a beat Peggy rested her head against the wall and took an assessment of everything: still alive, no injuries, legs slightly unsteady but that was hardly a problem. Perfectly capable of walking away.

She had, in truth, imagined her next encounter with Dottie going a lot worse.

The silence held, and Peggy wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, pushed the roll of her hair back off her shoulder, and started to brush down her dress to fall neatly around her knees.

Her hand caught over her holster, her dress pressing cool against her skin either side, and Peggy paused. Frowned. Flattened her hand along her thigh, exactly where her gun should be.

"Oh, bollocks," Peggy hissed, and left the closet running.


End file.
